


Ouroboros

by hurricane_in_space



Series: wildlands behind our ribs [1]
Category: Sicario (2015), Sicario (Movies), Sicario: Day of the Soldado
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Feelings, M/M, POV Alternating, Pre-Canon, Questionable Coping Mechanisms, So much angst, Suicidal Ideation, Torture, a varied supporting cast, alejandro just wants to stop, and drinking, and tears, but how human is that, did i mention all the crying, fucking lawyers, here have some meta in the tags, matt just wants him to stay, no one is very healthy, oh god so many feelings, onscreen violence, some very painful, some very tender, tragic backstory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 07:54:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16384214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hurricane_in_space/pseuds/hurricane_in_space
Summary: Life cycles through. Joy and love, pain and suffering. Rebirth. Alejandro falls, Matt catches him. And maybe the cycles change us too deeply for anything to remain the same. Maybe the very nature of humanity doesn't allow us to hold onto anything other than the very core of our being. Life cycles through. Pain and suffering, joy and love. Rebirth. Alejandro survives.





	Ouroboros

**Author's Note:**

> Some pretty solid warnings here guys, take all the tags seriously. Spoilers, we're witnessing the thing that changed the course of Alejandro's life, the violent deaths of his wife and child. The first time he takes a life in bloody retribution. It's on-screen, all of it, we don't fade to black in this house. If you're unsure, if some of these topics are possible triggers for you, swing me a message. Or maybe pass on this one and wait for us to return to our usual schedule of smutty romance. You won't be waiting long!  
> \----  
> So constantlyinflux and I have been on a massive pain binge together, writing Tragic Backstories, and you also need to go read what she's putting our boys through (she's a fucking magnificent writer, be prepared to have your heart ripped open and then beg her for more). If you want your agony and violence to be delivered with a heavy serving of tenderness, stay here, read this right now. If you’d prefer to start with an obscene amount of soul-destroying pain, go read Repentance first, and then come back here and let me hold you and whisper sweet things in your ear while you cry. Either way, you're in for an amazing and horrible time. Enjoy!  
> \----  
> Translations:  
> Hijueputa - son of a bitch  
> Reinita - Little Queen  
> \----

Alejandro pulled into the driveway, cracked his knuckles while he waited for the garage door to roll up, let a yawn stretch his jaw. Exhaustion tugged at the muscles in his back, his shoulders permanently tense from the stress of his current case. The offices in Chihuahua were more convenient for these long days, but sometimes that was half the problem, it was too easy for ‘thirty more minutes’ to turn into hours. And he’d have to spend at least a few days at the courts in Juarez soon. More absence from his family. God he missed just spending time with them. Maybe he could put it off until next week, have the weekend with his ladies and actually try to recharge a bit. 

He was so close now, almost ready to make his move. Miguel had convinced a few reluctant colleagues to carefully help him dig up what he needed, evidence to back up the evidence to back up the evidence. He was finally going to bury this hijueputa. He’d have to do something to return the favor when this was over, there’s no way he’d have gotten anywhere without Miguel’s help. He had aspirations of working in the States, maybe a couple of well-placed calls to some old contacts could pull some strings. He owed him. 

_ He was so close now. _

Everyone else had told Alejandro that going after the Sonora cartel was a fool's errand, couldn't be done, and was too dangerous to try regardless. He'd heard the whispers when he'd entered rooms,  _ ‘He doesn't realise he's a ghost yet’, ‘Dead man walking’, ‘Case'll never see a courtroom’, ‘He's fucking crazy’, _ and maybe they were right. 

_ But he was so close now. _

He'd talked it out over and over again with Sofia before he ever got close to starting the case, and many times since. There were so many risks. Whenever he contemplated dropping it, whenever he worried, her answer would always be the same quote,  _ ‘All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing’. _ That and her knowing gaze.

_ He was so close now. _

At the final click of the rollerdoor he drove forward, parked in alongside Sofia's SUV. She'd left the office a couple of hours earlier, her own caseload currently playing out in a somewhat more organised fashion than his. She'd dropped in to see if he was ready to leave with her, clearly expecting the ‘just a bit longer’ before it even left his lips. When all of this was over he wanted to take them on a proper holiday. Maybe head down to Puerto Escondido and stay at that eco resort Sofia loved so much, right on the beachfront. Carina could play in the sand, and he could watch his beautiful wife spend her days surfing. 

_ He was so close now. So close. _

He sighed as he climbed out of his car, grabbing his briefcase and slamming the door. He just had to hang in there, keep the pep talk going a little longer.

The house was quiet, save for the sound of their ensuite shower upstairs. He dumped his bag and keys on the kitchen bench, retrieved a couple of glasses and the bottle of Laphroaig.

‘Carina?’

No response. She didn't usually turn her hearing aids off unless she was sleeping, or particularly mad at them about something, and he felt a pang of guilt over whatever after-school activity he'd forgotten about this time. He’d been getting worse at keeping track of her extracurriculars, of her playdates. Thank god for Sofia and her willingness to increasingly carry the weight of their family as he got consumed by his job. He needed to fix that. It wasn't the life he wanted them to have, not forever.

He worried more and more often that he was letting them down, that his work was impacting their lives in all the worst ways. Sofia insisted the opposite, of course, supportive and optimistic without hesitation. They both chased their careers because they wanted to make a difference, thought that the right people could get the system working the way it should. But he couldn't help but think he was putting too much of himself into his work, and not enough into his family, the balance off. She soothed him through his guilt, always.  _ ‘You are teaching Carina to stand up and fight. That she doesn't need to accept the world as it is. I couldn't ask for a better father for my baby, for a better husband’.  _ He was probably the luckiest man alive. 

He poured a couple of fingers of whisky into each of the glasses, loosened his tie, his top buttons, hoped he could catch Sofia before she got out of the shower. His train of thought was interrupted by his phone ringing in his pocket, and he set the glasses back on the bench as he fished it from his jacket. 

FaceTime. Sometimes Carina liked to use it when everything got too loud, when she was too tired, liked to be able to see their lips moving as well. The hearing aids were amazing, but she learned with lips and hands, and that was still their back up. He swiped to open the call.

‘Mi reinita, do you need me to pick you up?’

The audio crackled, video blurry with movement.

‘Carina…?’

The tattooed face of a strange boy filled the screen, smirking up at him, and Alejandro felt his world stutter to a halt.

‘Ah, Mr Gillick. Your  _ little queen _ can't come to the phone right now, she's a bit…’

The camera swiveled, screen filling with horror.

‘...tied up at the moment.’

The ground came up to meet his knees as his hands began to shake, blood draining from his face, words rushing from him on a pained breath.

‘Oh god, please no.  _ Please.’ _

His baby girl, school uniform in telling shreds, bound and bleeding on a concrete floor, unmoving.

‘Please don't. Just tell me what you want me to do, I'll do it,  _ anything _ , just please…’

The camera turned back to the boy, gleeful expression plastered across his face.

‘Oh there's no bargaining here, we're just delivering a message.’

He could hear other men now, deep laughter off-screen. The boy walking over to crouch down next to Carina, bringing her beaten face into frame.

‘No,  _ please _ no. Carina…?’

Her eyes flickered open, wide and utterly terrified, and Alejandro thought he might crush the phone in his hands as the boy ran his fingers down her trembling cheek.

‘Papi?  _ Papi, I'm scared.’ _

Alejandro barely felt the hot tears streaming down his face. He knew where this was headed. He was scared too.

‘Carina, I'm here, I know baby.  _ I love you so much, _ I'm right here.’

He dragged his eyes away from her, took in the amused look the boy was giving him. 

‘Please. I'm begging you.  _ Anything. _ Anything at all.’

The boy was standing, laughing again as he waved over the other men.

‘I told you, no bargaining.’

The phone turned in time for Alejandro to see two men grab Carina by her arms and legs, watch her struggle desperately, thrashing as they carried her towards an industrial chemical drum. He could hear her screaming, distantly realized he was doing the same.

‘Oh god!  _ No! _ Please no! Not her, please! Anything, I'm  _ begging _ you,  _ please don't do this!’ _

He was wailing, body-wracking sobs breaking from deep in his chest. He could hear their laughter as they hefted her into the drum, the men flinching back as her flailing limbs splashed liquid over the sides in the seconds before they sealed a lid on the vat. 

He couldn't hear her screaming anymore. He threw up. Dropped the phone to the floor. The boy's voice cut through his shock.

‘Don't worry, Mr Gillick, we've left you another gift that you can get more hands-on with.’

Alejandro's blood froze in his veins.

‘...Sofia…’

He lurched to his feet, skidding towards the staircase, screaming over the razors in his throat.

_ ‘Sofia!  _ Oh god please no.’

He was tripping over the steps, his shoulder slamming into a wall. Too slow too slow too slow.

_ ‘Sofia!’ _

He rounded the corner into their bedroom, a manic sound wrenched from deep in his gut at the tableaux laid out for him.

His precious wife naked and spread out over their bed, head separated from her shoulders and eyes open to the heavens, dozens of wounds slashed into her skin. Red red red everywhere. 

‘Sofia...Sofia oh  _ dios mi amor…’ _

He climbed onto the bed on his knees, blood soaking into his pants, brought his hand to her cheek. She was still warm. 

He collapsed against her, clutched at her, held her to him. Great heaving sobs broke from his lips, a litany of guilt stuck on repeat as tears cascaded down his face. 

_ ‘I'm so sorry I'm so sorry I'm so sorry.’ _

His whole body was shaking with it, cracking open and falling apart. If he'd just come home with her from the offices when she'd asked…

‘Sofia please no, please, I can't lose you too, don't leave me,  _ please don't leave me.’ _

He curled around her body, felt her blood saturating his clothes, and wept and wept and wept. He had done this. He had brought this down upon them. It was all him. It should have been him dead. In should have been him. It should have been...

\--------------------

Hands were pulling at him, dragging him off the bed, away from her, forcing him to let go.

‘No.  _ No! _ Sofia!’

He shoved at the officer holding him, stumbled back towards the bed before he was restrained again.

‘Mr Gillick. Mr Gillick we need you to step back. There are paramedics here for you Mr Gillick.’

Alejandro barely registered the words, his eyes locked on his wife.

‘Mr Gillick, your neighbor heard a disturbance and called the police. We're here to help but we need you to take a step back.’

He became aware of the room full of people as he snapped his gaze to the officer clutching him, shock and rage blistering under his skin.

‘Help?! You're here to  _ help?! _ You're too fucking late! We're all too fucking late! She's dead! They're  _ both _ dead! What fucking help could you possibly be?!’

A primal scream tore from him as he yanked his arm free and turned, punching his fist into the bedroom wall, leaving a dark smear behind as his knuckles split open. He collapsed to the floor. 

‘They're both dead…’

The words spilled from his lips, fresh tears flowing over his cheeks.

‘...they're both dead…’

He felt someone kneel by him, vaguely noticing the paramedic uniform. A hand reached out to rest gingerly on his shoulder, wary. 

‘Mr Gillick. Alejandro, yes? Please, come downstairs with us. We won't go far from her.’

He sobbing hadn't eased, body shaking with tremors, but he let the woman guide him to his feet and edge them towards the door. He turned back. Didn't want to remember her this way, but didn't want to lose his last moment with her either. He let himself be led backwards from the room.

\--------------------

The news had traveled to Matt fast once Alejandro's colleague had called the agency, and he'd packed a bag and flown out to Chihuahua immediately. He’d parked on the street outside Miguel's home, the dread of what he was about to face sitting like a stone in his gut, keeping him frozen in the car. Alejandro lived for his family, this would destroy him. 

The last time he'd seen Sofia and Carina had been dinner, maybe six weeks earlier. He'd barely made it through the door that night before Carina had dragged him off to show him her latest school project. Space. It had been on space, planets. She was such a bright kid, fierce like her parents. Would have had an amazing life. God what a tragic fucking waste. 

Once she'd turned Carina in for the night, Sofia had settled in the living room, lounging loose and elegant across the couch with her glass of wine. She'd watched as he and Alejandro cleaned the kitchen, her gaze following their movements, catching his eye when Alejandro maneuvered around him with a hand placed on his lower back. She'd smiled at him, taking it all in, and he'd felt a little kick of nerves at how she might interpret the casual touches. If she’d recognized the attraction he felt towards her husband, determined as he was to ignore it. When Alejandro had stepped from the room a moment later and Matt had walked over to refill her glass, she'd paused him with a delicate hand on his arm. Her dark eyes had locked tight on his,  _ ‘I like how he is with you, don't worry about it’, _ and he'd found himself lost for words. Fucking lawyers. She read him like an open book, the pair of them did, but remarkably he found that with them he didn't really mind. 

He'd stayed particularly late that night, Sofia and Alejandro draped over each other on the couch, Matt sprawled out in an armchair, drinking and talking into the early hours. The image of them then was burned into his brain, how open and warm they were with each other, how tactile. They touched each other almost absentmindedly, his hands running over her thighs where they rested on his lap, her skirt rucked up to reveal bare, dark skin. Her fingers reaching to tangle in his hair, to slip beneath the edge of his untucked shirt. They adored each other, their love sitting like an almost-tangible thing in the room with them. Matt had been in awe of it. 

They'd been working together for a couple of years, Alejandro providing them with critical intel on cartel activity. His reputation had preceded him, gotten their attention some time back, the ruthless prosecutor who boldly went where lawyers twice his age still feared to tread. Matt had expected someone cold, calculating, foolish and egotistical enough to go after corruption from within a deeply corrupt system. 

So when he met Alejandro and felt the passionate fire of a man who desperately wanted to make a difference, felt that spark of a connection catch between them, he could not have been caught more off guard. He'd made a point to watch Alejandro in the courtroom, and the sight of him focused and relentless, stalking his prey with a vicious determination, had left him utterly captivated. Outside the courts he seemed to shed layers, the hunter in him retreating to reveal a man with a poetic soul and quick wit, warm. 

They'd been drawn to each other, grown close quickly, perhaps the first real friend Matt had made in his whole damn adult life if he was being honest. Banter had turned into long conversations, both of them letting the other see a little more each time, and before he'd realized it he was deliberately altering his schedule to have crossover with him. When he had first met Alejandro's family he felt like he'd been gifted something deeply intimate. With them, Alejandro wasn't just bright. With them, he  _ glowed. _ How was he going to survive their loss? Matt drew a long breath and steeled himself, climbed from the car and made his way up the driveway.

Matt had been concerned the minute Alejandro announced he was going after the head of the Sonora cartel. They both knew the risks, Alejandro hadn't needed to hear a lecture from him, so he'd just made sure he understood that he could call on Matt anytime he needed. He'd been determined to see things through the legal system, trying to prove that it could be done. Matt would have preferred to just go hunting. 

And now Sofia and Carina were gone, it remained to be seen whether Alejandro would survive it all, and those bastards were still as untouched as ever.  _ Fucking pointless waste. _ Matt wondered if Alejandro would let him kill the fuckers responsible, wondered if he would even care about due process anymore. 

Miguel opened the front door before Matt had a chance to knock, and they shook hands. Miguel looked tired, dark circles under his eyes, unironed shirt. It had been a long 20 hours.

‘Thanks for coming. He's in the back garden, hasn't moved all day. Matt, I don't know what to do to help him, this feels too huge.’

Matt squeezed his shoulder. What a fucking mess.

‘Yeah, yeah I know what you mean. I'll stick around for a bit, see if I can make any difference.’

He ran his hands through his hair, the thought that he could help sounded ridiculous to his ears. He didn't think this was the sort of thing anyone could actually help with. All he could do was bare witness, try to keep his friend from drowning. 

He followed Miguel inside, walked through to the garden where Alejandro was slumped on the ground, leaning against a tree. Sleep pants and an open robe. Dark sunglasses. Matt walked up warily, watching for any sign that Alejandro had even noticed him, but he was motionless. He knelt down beside him, wanted to reach for him, held back.

‘Alejandro…’

Slowly, slowly, Alejandro reached for his sunglasses, tugged them from his face. Matt took in his raw knuckles, his tear-swollen eyes bloodshot and exhausted, and felt his heart break.

‘...I'm so sorry.’

And  _ fuck _ that felt so appallingly insufficient for this. 

Alejandro grabbed the front of his shirt, the sudden flash of movement taking Matt by surprise, and yanked him forward. Matt wrapped around him, held him as tight as he could manage while Alejandro clung to him.

‘I'm so fucking sorry.’

Tears stung his eyes as Alejandro began to shake in his arms, felt his shoulder grow wet as he wept. Matt tucked in closer and let himself cry too, let himself grieve for a lost family, let himself grieve for the man in his arms. They stayed locked together in wordless anguish until the sunset, and for an immeasurable time beyond that.

\--------------------

Neither of them had ever been religious, the concept of unquestioning faith never sitting well with either of them. So to find himself in the front pew of the cathedral in town, twin candles burning behind him, well. She would be amused. He closed his eyes, rested his head in his hands, elbows propped on his knees. Swallowed hard around the sharpness in his throat. The cathedral was dark, quiet, centuries of devotion soaked into its walls. He breathed deeply, vetiver and sandalwood and myrrh, settling heavy in his lungs. Words fell from his lips on a crumbling whisper, breath catching on the sounds.

‘I let go of your bodies yesterday. It felt so final. But it wasn't. I'm still there in the kitchen with her, in our bedroom with you. I don't know how to do this. How to live without you both. How to live knowing I failed you so badly.

Tears tracked softly down his face. Maybe he'd never stop crying again.

‘Matt is here. He's been here since it happened. I don't want him to leave, but I don't want him to stay either. I don't deserve his comfort. And you were right. About him. You always saw people so clearly. I don't deserve that sort of kindness.’

She'd seen straight into the heart of him from the first moment they'd met. He'd found it fascinating, the way she'd look at him and just  _ know,  _ his walls hiding absolutely nothing from her. He'd brought Matt to their home, watched him charm Sofia, watched her see into him as well. Carina had warmed to him immediately, in that way that children do when an adult treats them as an equal, and Alejandro hadn't expected that. Seeing Matt be soft and gentle with his baby girl had been a profound thing, a moment that had laid bare a part of Matt that he perhaps didn't realize he was revealing. Sofia had seen it too. 

Like so many nights after that one, Matt had stayed into the early hours, and embraced them when he left. It had felt like he’d shared a part of himself with them that hadn't seen sunlight in a long time.

In their bed that night she held him, carded gentle fingers through his hair.  _ ‘He wears heavy armor, my love. Protecting his heart. Don't let it deter you though, he cares about you a great deal. Looks at you the way I did when we first met. He sees you.’  _ He'd felt a pang of guilt, which she'd quickly recognized.  _ ‘Don't do that, my darling. There is nothing in this life I am more certain of than my place in your heart. But there is space there. You can let yourself care about him too, let yourself be close to people other than me. Life is for living, sweetheart.’ _

She was incredible, her love given with so much faith. Maybe they were religious after all. 

\--------------------

Miguel's garden had become Alejandro's refuge, and Matt sat with him watching the sky lighten with the rising sun, already on their second cup of coffee. He’d been here three weeks, increasingly thankful that he could manipulate parts of his job into being done remotely when necessary. He'd been putting off everything else, but if he didn't take care of a few things hands-on this week he'd pay for it later. 

Alejandro was a ghost, going through the motions on the outside, but the core of him was drifting somewhere far away. Matt wanted to stay until he returned, even a little, but he was starting to realize that could take a hell of a long time. If he came back at all. He tried not to consider that.

‘I need to head back Stateside, just for a week or so. Take care of a few things.’

Alejandro said nothing for a moment, just took another sip of his coffee. His voice was like ash when he spoke. 

‘I was thinking of going home this week anyway. Miguel has been so generous, but I can't stay here forever. Besides…’

Another sip of coffee.

‘...the house won't pack itself up.’

Matt exhaled a long breath, glanced over.

‘Hey, why don't you give it another week? Wait til I'm back. I could help you.’

The moment froze, Alejandro watching the sky, lost in his thoughts.

‘It's okay, Matt. I think this might be something I need to do alone anyway. And you've already done so much. You don't  _ have  _ to be here.’

Matt reached over and squeezed his knee, just a brief reassurance, before returning his hands to his cup. Of course no one was forcing him to be here, there was no obligation, but that didn't mean he didn't have to be here.

‘Yeah, yeah I do.

They drank in silence, the world around them slowly starting to wake for the day, the hushed sounds of Miguel moving around inside the house lending a strange sense of normalcy to things.

‘Thank you.’

Matt's heart ached at the broken tone of the words.

‘You don't have to do that. I'm your friend, I wouldn't be anywhere else.’

A knot of worry tangled itself in Matt's stomach at the thought of Alejandro alone in the house, but he had to go, and overstepping into Alejandro's grief wouldn't help anything either. He'd just have to make the trip as fast as he could.

\---------------------

Alejandro pulled into the driveway, waited for the garage door to roll up, and let the ugly sense of deja vu wash over him as he parked next to Sofia's SUV. He sat in the car, head resting on the steering wheel, trying to find the willpower to get out.  _ Come on come on come on.  _ He swung the door open and climbed out, body numb, legs made of jello as he walked through the garage and into the house.

It didn't smell like home. The chemical bite of antiseptic tainting stale air made him gag as he entered the kitchen, the sense of wrongness settling over him. The bottle of whisky was still on the bench where he'd left it. He vomited up his empty stomach into the sink. He pressed his cheek against the cold stone benchtop and lingered there a while, trying to breathe around the crushing weight in his chest.

This place was haunted now, years of memories sullied by horror, and Alejandro knew unequivocally that he couldn't stay living here. He pushed away from the bench and made his way down the hall, passing walls of photographs, Sofia's collection of art, shelves of treasures. He had an urge to clean the film of dust that had settled over everything, make it perfect for  _ her,  _ except she'd never see it, would never see anything again. It was all so fucking pointless now.

His hand paused on the doorknob of Carina's bedroom, gradually turning until the door opened with a click. It swung ajar, revealing toys and books all over the floor, her unmade bed staring back at him, the smell of her hitting him. He lurched backwards, slamming the door as he went, collapsing into the opposite wall.  _ He couldn't do this. _

Stumbling back down the hallway he paused at the foot of the staircase, willed himself to climb it, and just stared instead. It wasn't until his legs began to cramp from standing there, shadows shifting across the floor, did he finally begin to move.

The door to their bedroom was open, and he was flinching as he rounded the corner, but there was nothing waiting for him there. No body, no blood, nothing to be afraid of except ghosts. Their mattress was gone. He realized he had no idea who cleaned, when it had even happened, and he felt like a stranger here. As though he was interrupting something. 

He crossed the room into their walk-in robe, and let his eyes trip over her things. Clothes that would never touch her skin, earrings that wouldn't catch the light when she laughed, high heels that wouldn't bring her eye to eye with him again.

Her blouse from work that day was still draped over a chair, and he reached for it, grasping, pressing it to his face and inhaling the lingering scent. Perfume and sweat and  _ her. _ He fell to his knees, crawled into the corner, let the draping fabric of her clothing hide him. Great wracking sobs broke from deep in his chest as he felt his heart splintering apart, his lungs struggling for air, and he thought maybe this was how he'd die. Suffocating on his grief.

\--------------------

Alejandro came to slowly, a vibrating against his hip triggering through the fog in his brain, his body sluggish and aching. He tried to open his heavy eyelids, blinking, the panic of blindness rising before his brain told him it was nighttime. When had that happened? The vibrating started again.  _ Phone. _ He reached for it, shoving a hand between himself and the couch, and the tidal wave of nausea and searing pain that slammed into him stole every trace of air from his lungs. He yanked his aching hand back, held it away from his body. His brain felt like a swollen river, rapids breaking over jagged rock, dizzying, everything moving too fast. He ran fingertips over his throbbing knuckles, clumsy, catching.  _ Glass. _ He'd punched a mirror. Yesterday? Today? He didn't know. The vibrating had stopped.

He lay there trying to calm his racing thoughts, trying to take enough air in to breathe. Sweat was trickling down his neck, his back, pooling and soaking into the fabric of his shirt. The nightmare had slipped back under, but the fingers of it were still hot around his throat. Red red red. Screaming and thrashing limbs. He wasn't alone in this house, their suffering walked the hallways, lay in their beds, watched him from their kitchen. Days of alcohol spiked in his bloodstream, his woeful attempts to drown his misery nothing more than a sickly reminder of yet another failing. He was so tired. 

He tugged at the shards of mirror embedded in his hand, the little bursts of pain making his stomach turn. He flicked them towards the coffee table, watched some of them bounce down onto the rug. Maybe his bare feet would find them later.

His phone vibrated again, the single pulse of an incoming text. He should check it. Reply. Go and make himself some food. Take a shower. He felt eyes burning into him, pressed his face deeper into the couch, waited for his body to force him to shift his head and breathe. 

He just wanted to stop. Stop seeing them everywhere, hearing them. Stop dragging air into his lungs.

\--------------------

One week had turned into two, and Matt was determined to fly back to Chihuahua today whether everything was done or not. Fuck it. He'd woken up with that knot of worry in his stomach making him queasy, pushing hard against his instincts, and he'd been calling Alejandro all morning with no answer.

Miguel was out of town for a few days, and Alejandro's neighbor got no answer when she went to the door this morning at his request. Something was wrong, and Matt needed to be there  _ now. _

His flight landed mid-afternoon, and he was speeding the hire car through the streets in a matter of minutes. He pulled into the driveway hard, tires clipping the curb, slammed the door behind him before dashing up to the front porch. 

His knocking, his shouting Alejandro's name, were met with silence. He had a moment to regret his lack of options before he picked up a brick from the garden edge and hurled it through a panel of glass by the door. He yanked his jacket off to wrapped around his fist and punched out enough of the remaining fractured glass to reach his hand through and fumble the lock open. 

The smell hit him first, sweat and heat and stale liquor. The sour scent of grief and isolation.

‘Alejandro?’

He didn't expect an answer as he made his way down the hall. The living room looked like a riot had broken out, the place had been destroyed. And there at the center of it was Alejandro, sitting statue-still on the couch with his back to Matt. Instinct slowed his approach, hairs prickling along his arms as Alejandro came fully into view, a gun in his hands.  _ Fuck. _

‘Can I sit?’

Alejandro said nothing, stare a thousand miles away. Matt crept forward, slowly taking a seat next to him, letting the silence hang heavy between them.

‘Do you think you could put that down for a minute?’

A tick of his fingers to gesture at the gun still in Alejandro's hands.

‘...it's making me nervous.’

Alejandro's hands twitched, the first sign that he'd registered Matt's presence. 

‘No it isn't.’

True, he supposed that was a bit of a stretch. Maybe he should have just said ‘ _ I'm a bit fucking terrified that you're about to blow your brains out’ _ but he didn't think he could get the words out without throwing up. He plucked an open whisky bottle from the floor and sank back further into the couch. Alejandro placed the gun down on the coffee table and Matt noticed the rainbow of bruises littering his hands, the split knuckles.  _ Jesus. _ The silence held, and Matt waited him out.

‘How am I supposed to do this?’

Alejandro spoke so softly Matt had to strain to hear, the rasping words tumbling and shaky.

‘How am I supposed to get up everyday and do this? It was my fault. All of it. For putting them in danger in the first place. We should have stayed in Cartagena, never come here. I'm such a goddamn fool. I might as well have killed them myself. I don't want to look myself in the eye anymore.’

There was a potent rage threading through his words, guilt and remorse cut with vicious self-loathing. 

‘It should have been me. I can't stop seeing it. Hearing them. I can't do this. I don't  _ want _ to, Matt. I don't want to live with this. I just want it all to stop.’

Matt took a deep swig from the bottle, let the silence grip them again. What was he meant to say to that? He held his next breath, let it out on a hard exhale.

_ ‘Fuck. _ You know I have no answers. I could tell you that they wouldn't blame you, that they wouldn't want you dead, but what the fuck difference would it make, you know? It wouldn't make this feel any less like hell.’

He drank again, passed Alejandro the bottle, because what did it matter now? They were already at rock bottom.

‘The only thing I know for sure is that I'm a selfish prick for asking this, but I don't want you to go, even though you're in more pain than you think you can survive. I don’t want to lose you. It's all the answer I got. Stay because I want you to. Just fucking stay.’

Alejandro glanced over at him, avoided eye contact, his brow furrowed. Matt felt his pulse kicking in his veins, and knew he had to give him more than this. More than his own desperate need. He ran his hands roughly through his hair, smacked them down on his thighs. 

‘I'll help you get the fuckers. I'll help you get as much blood as you want. Don't you want vengeance?’

Alejandro tightened his battered hands around the bottle, knuckles blanching, whispered words like razor blades.

‘Of course I do.’

Matt was nodding. He could work with this, redirect the rage outwards.  _ Come on Alejandro, take the offer, give me a way to help you. _

‘Well you can't get that from the fucking grave now can you? Stay. Fucking stay, just a little while longer, and we'll go after them all.’

He reached for Alejandro's hand, pried the bottle free and grasped his fist. Tremors shivered down Alejandro's arm, sporadic for a moment, until his whole body was shaking with the force of them. Silent tears coursed down his face, eyes downcast. Matt was so far out of his depth here, felt like he was bargaining with the devil. He gentled his tone.

‘I can't tell you it'll be okay. I can't. But I don't want you to leave. So stay, let's hunt them down together, drown them in their own blood. It's all I have to offer. And if you still want to go after that…’

A deep breath.

‘...I won't stop you.’

He squeezed Alejandro's hand, linking their fingers.

‘Please just…’

His voice cracked, the strain of holding back his panic and fear threatening to split him open. 

‘...please just don't make me say goodbye to you yet.’

Alejandro's resolve seem to crumble at that, turning himself into Matt and collapsing against him, sobbing hard into his shoulder. Matt wrapped his arms around him, held him, kept breathing. It felt like that first day all over again, Alejandro's anguish palpable, grief and rage pouring out of him in waves. 

They stayed like that until Alejandro passed out, pulled under by exhaustion, and Matt eased him down fully onto the couch as he got up. He settled into an armchair, watched Alejandro tensing and shifting in his sleep, and felt totally at sea. He wondered how close they'd really come today, if he'd been just in time, if he'd be so lucky next time. 

He mourned for Sofia and Carina, of course he did. He cared about them, and people like them didn't deserve the sort of ending they got. But the violent ache in his chest was for Alejandro. Being forced to watch, being forced to remain behind. Who the fuck was Matt to tell him he had to keep suffering? Maybe things would get better, most things did with time, but that wasn't a certainty. Matt had countless horrors burned into the back of his eyelids, but none of them were a wife and child. Who the fuck even knew if that was something you could live through? He had no fucking clue what to do next, except keep his promise and hope that was enough.

He could teach Alejandro how to hunt these bastards down, how to move unseen, how to take a life without carrying the weight of it with you afterwards. He'd made so many soldiers over the years, sharpened and honed them into weapons, what was one more? He’d always sensed something shadowy in Alejandro, something that his own instincts had taken note of early on. His intensity had dark roots. Matt could use that. All the things that made Alejandro a great prosecutor would also make him great in the field, focused and relentless as he was. They could do this. And maybe along the way Alejandro would find a way to keep living.

Matt reached for the pistol and disassembled it, stashing the magazine in his pocket and dumping the rest back on the coffee table. Another decent swig from the whisky bottle and he rose from his chair, took stock of the room around them. Chaos. Overturned furniture, broken lamps, a fist-sized hole in the wall by the back doors. All that pain and fury turned outwards to destroy the home they had created, no doubt turning back inwards when Alejandro realized what he was doing. Childhood stories of a world-circling serpent flashed through Matt's mind. The Ouroboros. Birth and death, joy and pain, cycles bleeding into one another without end. 

The kitchen was a wreck of liquor bottles and broken glass, and Matt wondered when exactly in the last fortnight things had turned this ugly. He'd stayed in touch, spoken to Alejandro regularly, but he'd never thought that this might be going on. The glint of more glass in the hallway caught his eye, and he stepped closer. The powder room door was gaping and loose on one hinge, mirror over the sink shattered, shards of reflective glass covering the vanity and floor. Dark splatters of dried blood were everywhere. Matt's chest ached as he distractedly rubbed at his knuckles.

He didn't want either of them to be in this tomb anymore, the poison of lost things leaching from the walls. He made his way back to the living room and slumped into his chair, watched over Alejandro while he slept, and contemplated how to help him find a way to stay alive through all this.

\--------------------

Alejandro jerked awake, startled out of the nightmares that had been playing on a repeating loop since that night. He couldn't remember what it felt like to be rested. His subconscious fed him every horrifying variation of their deaths possible, over and over again, the only difference during his waking hours was that the monsters took human form. 

He lay there a while, waiting for his pulse to slow, waiting for the nausea to settle, and gazed at Matt asleep in an armchair. He'd always understood that Matt cared about him, they'd grown close so fast, something inside each of them embracing the deep connection and holding on. Matt put on such a show for the world, all ego and smartassed humor, his intelligence and uncompromising nature off-putting to many people. And Alejandro thought that Matt liked it that way to a degree, a ‘take all of me or none of me’ attitude to keep the majority of people at arm's length. Alejandro enjoyed it. All that fire and confidence, with the intelligence to back it up, the theater of watching people intimidated or captivated by him in turns. 

He'd felt caught in Matt's gravitational pull from their first introduction, and when, slowly but surely, Matt had let him peer behind his armor, he knew he'd found a kindred spirit. A gentle heart with incredible capacity for love, a profound man who didn't want to move through the world without touching it, fearless determination. And running through it all was an aching, a loneliness that Alejandro longed to soothe. There was attraction too. Matt was beautiful, had a smile that could break hearts, Alejandro wasn't blind. But it was the depth of the friendship, the bond, that had settled itself behind his ribs.

So of course he was here now, a solid presence by his side, but  _ how _ he was doing it had him at a loss. It was a horrorshow. Alejandro would do anything to escape it, very nearly did. Yet here was Matt willingly wading through it, begging him to stay his hand and hold on. Maybe he could try, if for nothing else than to give Matt this one thing he'd asked for in amongst all the things he had gifted to Alejandro during these last couple of months.

Matt was stirring across from him, waking slowly, and his blinking eyes took a moment to focus on Alejandro's gaze. They watched each other for long moments, the quiet between them soft, Matt giving him time. Giving Alejandro whatever he needed. 

‘I still haven't been in her room. Haven't been able to make it through the doorway.’

The confession scraped from his raw throat, voice a mess even to his own ears. Matt gave a very slight nod of acknowledgment and gradually rose from his chair, stretching and popping stiff limbs. He held out a hand to Alejandro, said nothing. 

It took a beat for Alejandro to get his body to move, then he was taking Matt's hand and clumsily climbing up from the couch. Matt led him down the hallway, tangled their fingers together and squeezed. He placed their joined hands on the doorknob before easing his own away, leaving Alejandro to take the next step himself. He was shaking as he turned the handle and swung the door open, but as Matt placed a steady hand on his lower back he felt the panic start to bleed out of him. One step, then another, and he had crossed the threshold. Matt waited behind, stood sentry.

She was everywhere, and he felt goosebumps prickle over his skin as he exhaled, tried to keep his mind from spinning into the nightmares. He wished he could hear her laugh. He began to pick up her toys, tidying up for her one last time.

‘She used to make up dance routines. Loved American pop music. We'd been teaching her Salsa, and some nights I'd get home and she'd show me these crazy moves, a mix of everything, and make us dance with her.’

Matt laughed softly from the doorway.

‘Wish I could have seen that.’

He took a few steps into the room, picked up a plush fox from the floor and held it out. Alejandro took it, pressed it to his chest before turning it's little fluffy face to Matt.

‘This is Cerdita.  _ Piglet. _ I asked her why once, and she said  _ ‘I don't know, that's just her name.’ _ Kid logic.’

Matt was smiling at him, and he felt himself smile back. The sensation had become quite foreign, out of place, like his body was forgetting how. He made his way over to her bed where Matt was starting to straighten the blankets, joined him in tucking the sheets in, fluffing the pillows, arranging toys. Matt pulled the quilt up and tucked one last toy in, like she used to do when it was bedtime, and Alejandro's heart ached. 

‘Did she still want to go to the Arctic Circle? I remember her telling me once that she wanted to ride a polar bear and see the magic lights.’

Alejandro felt a few tears slip free, more gather in his eyelashes.

‘Absolutely. Made us promise…’

He felt like he might choke on the sorrow, the words forced from his lips wet and jagged, tears spilling for her sweet heart and all the things they would never experience together.

‘Made us promise to take her to the snow one day. She was obsessed, convinced that everyone who lived there had pet polar bears, and that she was missing out.’

Matt chuckled at that.

‘Hmmm, yeah, that might have been me. Told her it was like Australians and their kangaroos…’

Another broken laugh escaped Alejandro's lips, and he wiped some of the tears from his face.

‘I'd always wondered where she'd gotten that from.’

He sunk down onto the edge of the bed, smoothed his hands over the quilt at his sides. Matt made his way around to join him, sliding down to the floor and leaning against the frame. The quiet of her room felt warm, and Alejandro drank in the strange sense of calm that had wrapped around him. Certainty settled in his gut and he placed a hand on Matt's shoulder, voice growing steady and haloed with ominous threat.

‘I want to destroy them all. Suffocate them in their own blood. I want them to hurt like she did. I want them to feel fear. Matt, I want them to  _ suffer.’ _ ’

Matt had been right, he needed vengeance. 

‘I've never killed anyone before…’

He'd  _ wanted _ to. In his line of work, of course he'd wanted to. But he'd always believed there was a line to hold, that it was up to people like him to make sure the system worked. Now he wasn't sure he believed it ever really could. Matt reached for his hand and grasped it tight, tilted his head to gaze at him from the corner of his eyes.

‘But I have. And I'm a good teacher.’

Alejandro nodded, rubbed circles into the back of Matt's hand with his thumb.

‘Thank you.’

Matt hummed and shook his head.

‘Come on, you know how I feel about that. Not with us. Not for any of this.’

Matt turned to face him fully, pillowed his chin on their twined hands. Alejandro was struck by how young he looked in that moment, soft hair falling over his temples, expression gentle, earnest, dark eyes meeting his.  _ ‘But I have. And I'm a good teacher.’ _ Sometimes Alejandro forgot the real nature of Matt's work, and it would hit him out of the blue. All that fire and relentlessness poured into orchestrating violence, death, chaos.

‘I can almost hear you thinking.’

Matt was just about whispering, as though he didn't want to disrupt the quiet of the room. 

‘Sometimes I forget how dangerous you are. We all contain multitudes, I suppose.’

Matt just tilted his head a little, blinked slowly. No fast reply, just those dark eyes studying him. When he spoke again it was in the same low register.

‘And it doesn't bother you.’

No denials, no redirection. Not a question, just a statement of fact. Alejandro kept gazing at him, matching his tone to Matt's. Meeting him there.

‘No, it doesn't.’

Matt's lips quirked.

‘I want you to come back to the States with me. Tomorrow, the next day, a week from now. Your call. I have an apartment in Corpus Christi, paid for by the Suits, you can stay as long as you want. I can teach you what you need to learn to go after them.’

Alejandro was frozen. He couldn't stay here, but at the same time how could he leave? It would be an acknowledgement that this life was over. Matt was watching him closely and when he continued it was with a little more force, reading his conflict.

‘You can't stay here. Alejandro, it'll destroy you. We can pay to have this place packed up, put every single thing into storage to keep it safe, and you can face it when you're ready. Just give yourself some room to breathe, you know?’

He let out a shaky breath. All he had to do was say yes, and he knew Matt would take care of it all.

‘This is more than you should have to handle right now. Will you let me help?’

A fresh wave of nausea rolled over him, the now-familiar cramping stabbing at his gut, but he found himself nodding. Matt squeezed his hand, and the silence settled back in around them, heavier this time. 

As the final light of the day retreated from the room, night closing in, Alejandro felt more tears slowly track down his face. He was leaving. Leaving the home they'd filled with love and joy. The still-smoking ruin of their lives together. He felt so lost, wanted badly what Matt was offering, the tenderness, the guidance. Hated himself for it a little too. He folded himself down onto her bed and pulled at Matt's hand.

‘Would you…?’

Matt went easily, letting Alejandro tug him onto the bed and maneuver him into place at his back. He sighed, raw and exhausted, as Matt wrapped strong arms around him and pressed a hand over his heart. He let the tears flow, let his body shake with it, another part of his heart fracturing under the weight of his new reality. And Matt just held him and held him and held him. 

\--------------------

They landed in Corpus Christi three days later, both of them beyond tired. Matt felt like his body was one exposed nerve. After that night spent in Carina's bed Alejandro had struggled to stay present, and Matt felt like he had a ghost by his side. Every time he'd speak, every time he'd reach out to touch, it would take Alejandro a moment to come back to him. He was so grateful Alejandro had agreed to leave. The pain in that house was almost sentient, pushing back against their presence, and they'd needed to get clear of it. 

Stepping out of the terminal into hot sunshine, hailing a cab and piling their luggage in the back, Matt felt almost normal for a moment. Even as he herded Alejandro into the  backseat, sunglasses obscuring his eyes, he felt like he was moving them towards more familiar ground. A hint of a world that made sense.

The apartment in North Beach wasn't really his home, nowhere really was, but it was as close to a permanent residence as he had. The Suits had insisted on some kind of base for him, and when he'd agreed on the condition it at least be a place by the beach they'd sorted it out. A bit touristy, but not too far from the good swell on Mustang Island, so he had no real complaints. He wasn't here that much anyway. He carried Alejandro's bags into the spare room, left the man himself standing on the balcony looking out over the bay. He grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge as he made his way back out to join him.

‘Hey…’

He held a bottle out to Alejandro, the condensation dripping down his fingers as he waited for him to respond, to snap back into the present and slowly take the drink from his outstretched hand. He'd been planning on waiting to do any training until Alejandro was a bit more stable, maybe just spend some days surfing or working on their tans or some other fucking lowkey nonsense. But this drifting, this absence, had him concerned. Maybe it would be better to try and pull him back before he lost himself out there.

‘...I was thinking we could hit up the firing range tomorrow, warm up the old trigger finger.’

He took a long drink, watched as Alejandro mimicked him, here with him but only barely. His voice sounded brittle after days of disuse.

‘That sounds good.’

Matt was glad for even that much response, had resigned himself to every conversation being a battle to coax him back. So when Alejandro turned to face him, removed his sunglasses and stared at him with bright focus, Matt had to steady himself. 

‘Let's go out. Take me out, Matt. Somewhere with good seafood, some decent music. And then tomorrow we'll shoot some guns.’

Matt was grinning at the bizarre feeling of whiplash, sucked down another deep drink.  _ Hey there Alejandro. _

‘Yeah, yeah we can do that.’

\--------------------

They arrived at the military base mid-morning, waved through the checkpoint with little more than a  _ ‘Mr Graver, and…’ ‘...and my plus one, boys’ _ . The perks of being him were many. Matt parked them by the indoor range, led them inside, collected a couple of guns on their way through. Alejandro cocked his eyebrow at the Beretta’s.

‘Look, the M9 isn't totally shit.’

He shrugged, laughing as Alejandro hummed dismissively. 

‘Obviously we've got nicer toys to play with, but I figured this was a decent starting point.’

Alejandro was watching him, quiet and contemplative, but present. Matt loaded a magazine into one of the pistols and placed it back down on the bench. 

‘You use that Glock of yours much?’

He kept his eyes focused elsewhere, gave Alejandro some space. Matt hadn't even realized Alejandro knew how to shoot, let alone owned a gun, before that day in his living room. The pause between them was thankfully brief.

‘A little.’

Matt glanced over at him, wondering at the inflection in his tone, passed him eye and ear protection. He gestured at the pistol. 

‘Show me.’

Matt stepped back to give him room, watched as Alejandro picked up the gun and breathed for a moment, adjusted his stance and aimed. Confident. Calm.  _ A little  _ experience? He'd seen soldiers look less comfortable. A spot in the back of his brain itched, instincts taking closer notice of something familiar. He studied Alejandro as he took one more breath.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Brace.

Fire.

Matt watched as he tweaked his positioning a little, then emptied the remaining magazine into the target. He gently placed the gun down and turned to gaze at Matt, pokerface firmly in place as he removed the protective gear. Matt followed suit as he retracted the target.

‘Are you fucking kidding me?’

Matt couldn't decide where to look, Alejandro's smirking mouth, or the paper target with one bullet hole wide to the left and the other fourteen grouped tight together in the center two rings.  _ What the fuck?  _

‘Okay, any other fucking skills you'd like to tell me about? Or are you just going to surprise me at random fucking intervals?’

Alejandro held his gaze, clearly enjoying Matt's surprise. 

‘It was easier to just show you. I thought it was something I should learn how to do well, if I was going to go after the cartels. I thought I might need to protect my family one day.’

Matt watched as Alejandro's focus drifted, ghosts closing in. He gentled his tone, reached out to brush his fingers over Alejandro's forearm, hoping to ground him.

‘Hey…’

Alejandro's attention flickered back to him, haunted but present. He hummed softly and nodded, continued in a quiet voice.

‘Boxing. I did boxing at university. It's been a long time since I went toe to toe with someone, but I used to be able to hold my own.’

Matt grinned at that. God, of course he'd done boxing. The sport equivalent of being in a courtroom, all misdirection and sharp follow through. He could picture 20-something year old Alejandro building that fierce reputation, both inside and outside the classroom. Intimidating GPA with a physicality to match. Matt suspected it all came together to make him pretty unpopular. 

‘Why did you stop?’

Matt leant against the wall, Alejandro mirroring him, and tucked his hands in his pockets.

‘Pushing my career took over, for the most part.’

He paused for a moment, and Matt felt the moment of hesitation. He gave him time, wanted the rest of the story if he'd offer it up.

‘And I got into a fight. Not in the ring, in the gym.’

His body language shifted, a subtle thing that had Matt's lizard brain snap into alertness. All that grace that Alejandro moved with was suddenly colored with something predatory, a hint of something dangerous that Matt had only caught fleeting glimpses of before. His tone grew sharper.

‘Someone who didn't think very much of me made some comments about my choice of, ah, companions, and I fired up. Lost control completely. My body had it's own instincts by then, you know, and by the time I realized what I was doing the guy was a mess.’

He turned to lock eyes with Matt, his gaze intense, and the fine hairs on the back of Matt's neck stood on end. 

‘The loss of control should have frightened me, seeing proof that I had the capacity for that kind of unrestrained violence, and realizing that it actually came quite easily outside the ring. But it didn't. And it was precisely that lack of fear that scared the hell out of me, like maybe I was letting some part of myself grow that I shouldn't. I got lucky, he agreed not to press charges, and I never stepped back in the ring.’

Fuck, Matt wanted to  _ see. _ Something powerful and tightly coiled was coming off Alejandro in waves now, and Matt desperately wanted to unleash it and find out what would happen. 

Alejandro had always carried himself with an effortless awareness of his body, had a physical presence that Matt assumed had its roots in a childhood spent dancing. A poetic fluidity and economy of movement, a sensuality. But he'd be lying if he said the thought of him training in some kind of fighting style hadn't crossed his mind. There was a brutality in him that opened up in the courtroom that Matt sensed was fed from a deeper aggression, the few times he'd witnessed it. It had felt like Alejandro was holding something back with very tight reigns. Something they could cultivate now, if he was willing to follow Matt all the way down the rabbit hole. 

Alejandro was studying him, focused, and Matt was happy to let himself be an open book if it kept him this present. When he spoke his voice was stronger than it had been in days. Weeks. 

‘We're actually doing this, aren't we?’

Matt held his gaze, needed Alejandro to understand that they were in this together, if it was what he wanted.

‘Yeah, we are. Until the moment you say otherwise.’

Alejandro tilted his head in acknowledgment.

‘I’m not sure what we're going to find, when we start looking.’

He didn't sound scared, just curious. Matt felt the dark thing in him sit up and take notice, a sense of anticipation creeping into his veins. The corner of his mouth twitched up with a hint of feral smile, and he let it carry into his voice. 

‘I think I'm starting to get an idea…’

\--------------------

Alejandro kicked off his shoes and left Matt to unload his surfboard from the SUV. The day was winding down, the light taking on that late-afternoon glow, and when Matt had announced his desire to head for the beach to surf Alejandro had quietly followed. Now that they were here he wasn't sure he could watch him, for a moment everything feeling too much like days at the beach with  _ her.  _

He'd rolled up his pants and wandered off towards the waters edge, hands tucked deep in his pockets, salt breeze whipping his hair back. The cool water felt good as it lapped around his ankles, the occasional wave splashing over his calves to soak into his cuffs. The muscles in his shoulders were complaining, his body still adjusting to working with a broad range of weaponry. He was thankful he'd been pretty fit before they'd started this, or he'd be struggling with the pace they'd set. Matt was a tank, he just seemed to have an endless reserve of strength and power to draw upon which Alejandro hadn't really noticed before now. They'd been at it for months, and every time he thought they were almost done Matt would introduce something new. Some days it felt like he was deliberately avoiding moving over into hand to hand fighting, like they were stalled waist deep in the fine details of weapons training. 

If he didn't know Matt as well as he did he'd suspect he was hesitating, but there was a method here, he was sure of it. In some ways it was a relief to let Matt drive this thing, let him set the pace, and just follow directions. And maybe Matt realized that. Was giving him exactly what he needed before he knew he needed it.

He turned around to glance back down the beach, watched as Matt paddled out to meet the waves. God he was so much like her, and also nothing like her at all. 

They both knew how to see past the walls he put up, see into the heart of him. But where she had been like water, flowing gently into tiny fissures and slowly shaping the world around her, he was like a hurricane. An unstoppable force, charged and powerful, chaos that belied the calmness sheltered at his core.

They’d gotten on so well, her and Matt. Pushed and teased, sparked off each other. He wished there had been more time for the two of them, too. They'd understood each other in a way that Alejandro hadn't been expecting. He remembered her asking Matt about his time in law school one night, direct and certain, and the look of utter shock on Matt's face at her guessing something about him which he thought he'd hidden well was something he'd never seen since. Alejandro had thought for a moment that it might send Matt fleeing back into his armor, but that night had been full of surprises and after a heavy pause he'd just laughed,  _ ‘Fucking lawyers’,  _ and let them both in a little more. It had solidified something between them all, a sense of trust. 

He doubled back down towards Matt, letting his slow steps sink his feet into the wet sand, before he made his way up to sit on the dunes in amongst the beachgrass. He buried his toes in the sand, lost himself for a moment in the sensation, the strange familiarity of something his body had felt countless times, but never here. Never on this beach, watching this man. 

What they had, this friendship, Alejandro still found the closeness of it overwhelming at times. He was surviving somehow, one day at a time, and it was all because Matt was keeping him afloat. Sometimes in the dark of night, when the nightmares would wake him, when the ache of his loss would become too profound to breathe around, Matt would appear in his doorway. Climb into his bed and hold him while he wept, and he'd wake alone the next morning feeling the claws of guilt scratching at his heart. As though he had no right to seek comfort when his family would never feel it again. And to receive it from Matt, where tendrils of mutual attraction existed, woven into their friendship right from the start, felt even worse. A sick sense of betrayal to layer on top of the guilt.

She would lecture him about it, if she could, he knew. The notion that he deserved to be suffering alone was one his own brain had concocted, not something she would let him abuse himself with, he could almost hear her telling him to  _ stop. _ If only it were that easy. 

The training was helping, giving his brain something else to latch onto, a focused stillness dropping over him whenever he picked up a weapon. Matt had been talking about him continuing as a consultant for the CIA, turning his old intel role into something more field-based. A way to keep Alejandro on a retainer while they went after the people who did all this. Matt was good at spinning a narrative to get what he wanted, told him it was all those years studying law, but Alejandro thought it went deeper than that. 

Matt could read people, he was naturally intuitive, and he worked that to his advantage, certainly. But it was also the thing he protected at the quiet center of his being, his powerful empathy, guarded fiercely like the precious thing it was. It made something instinctual in Alejandro want to step between him and the rest of the world, be his shield. His weapon. 

\--------------------

A calm silence sat between them as Matt pulled onto the base, finding a park easily outside the gym hall at this time of morning. They'd switched over from weapons training to hand-to-hand about a week ago, and things had ground to a halt, which didn't entirely surprise him. He’d wanted to give Alejandro time to just breathe and find his balance again, and physical combat training could be confronting. He didn't want to push him into that headspace too quickly. And now that they were here, Alejandro was holding back. He knew how to fight, but he was pulling his hits, shying away from connecting, keeping himself tightly in check. And Matt got it, he really did, there was a part of Alejandro that was so used to keeping this on a tight leash and letting go was always going to be difficult. But they had to work through it if he wanted to be in the field without getting himself killed. If it were anyone else he'd be in their face, goading them into committing, but he wouldn't do that here. He'd have to find another way around it.

They dumped their gear bags in the corner of a room, started stretching to warm up.

‘Hey, I was thinking you could teach me some stuff this morning, show me a little boxing?’

Alejandro was watching him intently.

‘The way I fight, well, it's not exactly what I'd called refined. Show me how to do it a bit less kamikaze and a bit more Old Master?’

Alejandro laughed at that, which at least meant he might go along with it, even if he suspected there was an agenda.

‘Well, I won't take you entirely out of your element, so bare-knuckle it is.’

Matt grinned as Alejandro walked over to their bags and retrieved a water bottle, taking a long drink. He stretched as he tossed the bottle back down, took a moment to shake his shoulders out, crack his neck. Alejandro slowly began to circle back around him, body language gradually shifting, hunting him. Matt felt a shiver pass through him, instincts growing sharp. He caught Alejandro’s eye for a second, watched something predatorial flash through that pale gaze and disappear just as fast, the air around them crackling. The last trace of his grin slipped from his face, breath catching. Alejandro drew up at his back, placed his hands on Matt's hips, and his voice held shadows when he spoke.

‘Keep your center of gravity low, let your body sit into it. You're solid, let it work for you. When you shift keep that in mind, glide on a single plane, don't bounce.’

Alejandro was demonstrating, pressed close, rocking them backward and forward as though they were dancing. He brought his hands up to clasp Matt's into fists, moved them to chest height, totally wrapped around him. Matt suddenly felt very aware of every millimeter of their height difference. 

‘Your guard position is out in front, arms angled to give you more protection. Too near your face and you'll end up with your own fist smacked into your jaw.’

He was guiding Matt's fists, attack, retreat, and Matt was starting to wonder if this had been a really great idea or a really terrible one. Alejandro continued his instruction, voice steady and dangerous, quiet against the shell of Matt's ear.

‘Let your punches connect on the diagonal. Sending your fist in vertically will mean your middle knuckles lead, and that's when you break fingers, injure wrists. Same risk if you connect horizontally. A diagonal hook will land with the base knuckles leading. Safer. Stronger.’

Alejandro was slowly stepping away, stalking back around to face him, shifting into a mirrored stance. His expression was firmly schooled, and Matt took a moment to feel the loss of contact before Alejandro was lunging into his space. Matt blocked him reflexively, cursing himself for the distraction, and moved to make an attack of his own. 

It was comfortable, trading blows without much intent, eye contact heavy as the pace began to pick up. Matt felt sweat start to run down his neck, soaking into his shirt and sticking the fabric to his chest. 

He moved faster, let the next throw carry more weight, and Alejandro responded in kind. The energy between them sparked, shifted, and Matt watched Alejandro's cool expression slip into something menacing.  _ There. _ There he was.

Matt feinted in one direction, pulled his punch, and let the next one follow with force. The connection struck Alejandro hard in the solar plexus, and shock eclipsed his eyes for a split second before he recovered and returned the blow. The power behind it made Matt stumble, the suddenness of Alejandro's  response seeming to startle him, and Matt saw hesitation cloud his face.

_ ‘No.’ _

Matt shot forward, kept delivering blows.

‘Don't you hide from me.  _ I see you.  _ Let this loose.’

Another hit, Alejandro blocking him but only barely. Matt was almost spitting with frustration, his movements growing messy. 

‘You'll never tame it if you don't understand it's nature.’ 

Another sloppy hit, but Alejandro's expression was opening, a hint of savageness clawing its way to the surface.

‘Come on, let me have all of it. I fucking  _ see  _ you.’

Alejandro was snarling, and in a heartbeat Matt had his arms up, defending against a volley of blows. He broke through Matt's guard easily, the power and strength channeled from a deep place in him, hit after hit connecting. This was what Alejandro had been suppressing, this brutal, raw energy, and the dark thing that lay waiting inside Matt was delighted. 

He eased off his own sense of control, traded in technique for the chaotic kind of viciousness that he favored, and the fight grew wild. Sweat poured off both of them, and Matt vaguely registered blood on Alejandro's shirt, both of them feeding off each other's ferocity. Time drew hazy, they could have been at it for seconds or hours, Matt felt lost to it. The bruising impact of bloodied knuckles, the burn of tension held in muscular limbs, the panting of harsh breaths, the sweaty slip of skin on skin as they'd careen into one another. It was like dancing, like fucking, perfect and feral and honest.

Alejandro landed a hit to his kidney that made him stumble his footing, and in the space of a heartbeat Matt felt his leg hooked out from underneath him. They crashed to the floor in a tangle, Alejandro landing hard on top of him, his weight pinning him down, forearm pressed firm against his throat. 

Alejandro was growling, face close, eyes bright and locked on Matt's. His instinct was screaming at him to fight back, throw him off, but he reigned it in. The creature in him was just about preening with satisfaction. Alejandro was goddamn  _ magnificent,  _ and he'd let Matt see it all.

As he started to ease the pressure off his throat, Matt slowly began to come back to himself, and became intensely aware of every point their bodies were touching. Intensely aware that they were both hard. He watched, transfixed, as Alejandro's eyes drifted to stare at his mouth, and for a long moment he thought things might actually get totally out of hand. His blood burned at the thought. 

Their limbo broke with the next breath as Alejandro seemed to snap into himself, rolled off him and sat up, facing away. Matt took a moment to breathe, body still utterly wired, and willed his dick to settle the fuck down. He adjusted himself as he moved, crawled over to sit next to Alejandro, leant their shoulders together.

_ ‘Jesus.’ _

Alejandro hummed, his voice pitched low when he spoke, still a little out of breath.

‘That was…’

A long pause. Matt got it, felt it too, wanted Alejandro to understand he was just as affected by it all.

‘Intense, yeah, I know. Intense and fucking perfect. I meant what I said…’

Alejandro tilted his head just enough to meet his gaze.

‘...about letting this out. You need to know what lurks in you, the nature of it, how it responds, what it's capable of, if you want to learn how to control it.’

Matt expected Alejandro to close off, retreat a little, but he kept watching him, expression open. Something wet hit his knee, and Matt looked down to see a splatter of blood. Alejandro reached out, his whole body turning in towards Matt, and ran his thumb over his eyebrow. The sting made him aware of just how much his body was hurting, and he glanced at the blood Alejandro was wiping off on his pants.

‘Thank you for trusting me. For letting me in.’

Alejandro's hand moved to the back of his neck, grip gentle, fingertips almost stroking, never breaking their eye contact. The air was heavy, and Matt let the moment draw out, intoxicated by the significance of what they'd just shared with each other hitting home. Another drip of blood broke the moment, and Alejandro slowly withdrew his hand. Matt gingerly made his way to his feet, cataloging his injuries as he moved, and held out his hand for Alejandro.

‘Come on. I feel like we both need showers, and christ, probably a drink and some burgers or something.’

Alejandro was following him out, grabbing their bags on the way. He smiled when Matt looked over, and fuck, it was like goddamn sunshine.

\--------------------

Matt climbed the fire stairs to his apartment two at a time, the pounding of his boots on the concrete helping to settle his nerves, frustration chewing at the muscles in his shoulders. He hated days spent with the Suits, hours of dense-headed bullshit and self-congratulatory wanking. Fucking tedious. If he didn't have his feet up and a beer in his hand in the next five minutes he might lose his mind. 

The only win that had come out of today was they were go on a small op two days from now,  not Sonora but still cartel assholes. He'd been thinking it was about time to get Alejandro into the field, let him cut his teeth on something easy, had been waiting for the right opportunity to present itself. He'd talk to him about it tonight, didn't look like he was home yet, the apartment closed up and dark. Matt yanked his boots off and tossed them by the front door, made his way through to the kitchen before noticing the soft glow of the tv flickering from the living room.

‘Alejandro?’

A shiver ran up his arms, and he dumped his bag on the dining table, telegraphing his presence a little more loudly as he walked into the living room. Alejandro sat tensely on the couch, staring at the tv but far away.

So tonight was a bad night, then. They had these, but Matt knew better than to think that healing was ever linear. Sometimes it would be over quickly, Alejandro snapping back into himself and rallying, other times it would last for days on end and Matt would feel like he was sharing the space with a ghost again.

He glanced at the tv, only taking a second to realize what tonight's trigger had probably been. He remembered this coming out in the cinema, Carina would have only been little.

‘Lilo and Stitch, eh? This was a good one, love a bit of Disney. Mind if I join you?’

Alejandro didn't respond, but Matt hadn't expected him to. He sprawled out on the couch next to him, content to just be here with him in case he needed company when he drifted back. 

They could almost talk about Sofia, as though the ghost of her was tough enough to take it. But Carina? Alejandro went dark with her. That was where he became unreachable, the guilt and loss dragging him under. 

It had been almost twelve months, and that one night back in Chihuahua had been the only time they’d spoken about her freely. It was why Matt had hunted down that little gangbanger with the home-job face tattoos first. He'd tracked him down a while ago, had been keeping eyes on him. When Alejandro was ready for it, that little fuck would be Matt's gift. 

He'd watched the video footage of that call as soon as they'd sent it to him, his stomach turning the whole time, and it had taken every ounce of willpower not to go out there and just slaughter the bastards himself. If their situations were reversed he knew it was something he'd need to do, so he'd known it would be an option he'd give to Alejandro one way or another, right from that first moment. He was grateful they were almost there now, and though it wouldn't fix anything, maybe spilling some blood would let Alejandro find a little peace.

A twitch of movement in his periphery caught his attention, and he glanced over to watch as Alejandro shifted a little. He turned to face him, focus coming back to the present, eyes still haunted. His voice came out soft, heartbreakingly adrift.

‘Oh, Matt, hello…’

Like he hadn't even realized he'd been there until that moment. Matt felt a sudden flare of rage in his chest, wanted to burn all the people who had done this to his friend. If Alejandro changed his mind, decided he didn't want to tread the path they were headed down, Matt was going to do it for him. Bring down hell on every last one of them.

\--------------------

They were a small team tonight, just he and Matt and a couple of Delta guys, and Alejandro was grateful for it as the SUV made it's way over the border. He felt on edge, like his skin didn't fit quite right, everything too tight, every nerve ending buzzing. The last thing he wanted was an audience right now, and of course Matt had preempted that. Just enough backup to clear them space to focus.

When Matt had told him he knew where this kid was, something hard had lodged in his gut, the weight of it an understanding of what he was going to do. Alejandro  _ wanted  _ this, wanted  _ blood. _ Matt had offered him an out, the option to send him in his stead, the option to be present as a bystander. But Alejandro could read it in his eyes even as he spoke, he knew Alejandro needed this for himself. 

The dark thing in him was stirring the closer they got to their destination, stretching from it's slumber with the scent of a hunt. It surfaced as a sense of calm washing over him, spreading out formidable and focused from somewhere behind his ribs, settling in his veins. He'd been accompanying Matt into the field for weeks now, and each time he would feel a little more centered, the sensation of another part of him emerging becoming a little more familiar. There was no fear here, just the strange sense of purpose, diabolic and hungry. 

As the SUV began to slow Matt turned to him, voice quiet but sure.

‘Are we good?’

Alejandro held his gaze, wanted to make sure he understood that this was what he wanted without question.

‘Yes.’

He almost didn't recognize his own voice, bitten through with something  _ other. _ The sound of the dark thing in the driver's seat. Matt watched him for a moment longer, nodded. 

The car had drawn to a stop and they were climbing out, silent, each one of them knowing exactly what they were doing here. Delta led, clearing a path for them through a rundown house, the pillowy snick of silenced weapons fire reached his ears followed by the thud of bodies hitting the ground.

The sound of begging became clearer as he and Matt left a hallway and entered the kitchen. Delta had the boy on his knees. Matt stepped forward and pressed his gun to the kid's forehead, voice snarling through his clenched jaw.

_ ‘Quiet.’ _

He shoved the muzzle of his gun harder against him, forcing his head to tilt back at an ugly angle.

‘How did you put it?  _ There's no bargaining here.’ _

Alejandro drew up level with Matt, watched as the kid's eyes went wide with recognition. He was young, maybe early twenties, exactly how Alejandro remembered him. No smirk tonight though.

The Delta guys stepped from the room.

He watched the boy for long moments, nightmares threatening at the edge of his consciousness. The beast in him was baring its teeth, and Alejandro felt his hold on that sense of calm start to crack and splinter. The kid spat as he spoke, taunting, mistaking Alejandro's pause for hesitancy.

‘Come for revenge, grieving man? I remember every single sound your  _ little queen _ made.’

Alejandro was growling, shifting to lunge, but Matt was faster. On the kid before he finished his last word, slamming him into the ground. Somewhere in amongst the flurry of movement Matt had tossed his gun aside and unsheathed a knife, half the blade now pressed against the kid's tongue, mouth held wide by strong fingers digging into his jaw. His voice sounded foreign to Alejandro’s ears when he spoke.  _ I see you too, Matt. _

‘I said  _ quiet. _ Say another word and I take your fucking tongue.’

He stood fast and wrenched the kid to his feet by his hair, tightened his arms behind his back, held him out between them like an offering. Alejandro stepped gradually over to the kitchen bench and put down his gun, picked Matt's up from the floor and did the same with it. 

There was fury on his tongue, he could taste the chaos of it, threatening to spill over as he tested the feel of his next words.

‘I've been thinking about this for a long time. What I'd do to you when I finally had the opportunity. All sorts of ideas have come to me, but nothing has ever seemed quite right. If I could take your life a thousand times it wouldn't be enough punishment for what you did. I realized that whatever I did tonight I will always wish I could have made you suffer more.’

He stood in front of them, statue-still, the kid finally having the sense to look scared.

‘It was a strangely freeing realization. If nothing would ever be enough, then nothing could ever be too much.’

He glanced up at Matt, who was watching him with an intense gaze. There was no fear there, no disgust, only curious fascination, and in that moment Alejandro caught a glimpse of the kind of future they might have. The kind of partnership.

‘Matt, may I have your knife?’

The kid squirmed at that, and Matt adjusted his grip. He loosened the knife in his hand, offering Alejandro the handle, their fingers brushing as he took it from him. Their gazes held tight for a heartbeat, Matt's eyes sparking hot and fierce. Time seemed to pause, the weight of a dangerous intimacy stretching out between them, a mutual recognition of what they were letting each other witness.

Alejandro pressed the tip of the blade beneath the kid's eye, slowly dragging outwards, almost delicately opening skin.

‘Should I take your eyes?’

Beads of red bubbled over and trickled down his cheek, a gruesome mimicry of tears. Alejandro felt his control slipping, fought to hold on to it, the thing in him gnashing it's teeth. He ripped open the kid's shirt, rested the knife over his chest.

‘How about your heart? Would I even find one if I cut you open?’

There was a storm inside him, memories of that night crashing furiously against his desperate control on his composure, the ghost of his baby girl's screams echoing loud in his ears. He pushed the blade into the boy's chest, felt the resistance of bone beneath skin. The kid howled, a scream bleeding into begging. Alejandro tore the knife loose, whipped it up to slam the butt of it into his face, tearing skin. He felt tremors running through his body, hands shaking, his own voice thundering loud above the suffering.

_ ‘No!  _ You do  _ not _ get to beg me! You do  _ not _ get to ask for mercy!’

The threw the knife aside and slammed his fist into the kid's nose, blood exploding on impact. 

‘You gave her none, and you will get none from me! The things you did to her…’

Blow after blow, distantly aware of bone shattering under his fist, of Matt still holding the kid firm for him. 

‘...she was a child! She was just a child!’

Alejandro felt like he was coming apart, shattering into a thousand jagged pieces, tears streaming down his face. He realized he was kneeling over the kid, couldn't remember them dropping to the floor.

He could still hear screaming, but there was no life left beneath his fists, just a sunken pulpy mess that had him reeling aside the moment he registered the horror of it. He knelt there on the floor, head hanging, sucking in heaving breaths as the ferocity drained out of him. 

There was movement nearby,  _ Matt, _ a tap running followed by the steady approach of footsteps. Matt knelt down in front of him, solid and  _ there,  _ and reached out to lift his chin. They stared at each other, Matt's gaze calm, full of a warmth and soft understanding that Alejandro wasn't sure he deserved. He held up a handful of damp field dressing, letting Alejandro track his intention, before he gently wiped it over his face. The tenderness of it brought fresh tears to Alejandro's eyes, and Matt brushed them away with his thumb. He reached down to take his hands, the damp cloth now bright scarlet with gore, and paused as he inspected Alejandro's knuckles. Matt slowly climbed to his feet and Alejandro let himself be led to the sink, let Matt rinse his hands under the tap. 

The incredible burn of pain snapped his focus sharp, the ghosts clearing, the beast retreating to curl up deep inside him. He glanced down at his hands, skin shredded from where it must have caught on cracked bone, knuckles split open.

‘You could probably use a couple of stitches.’

Matt sounded so unfazed, and Alejandro longed to wrap himself up in that calmness, let it be a buffer from the turmoil sitting heavy in his chest. 

He'd hoped to feel some kind of peace after what he did, but everything just felt raw. One corpse cooling on a filthy kitchen floor when it should have been everyone who laid a finger on them. It felt so insufficient. The realization that this was just the beginning of things hit him hard. He knew with absolute certainty that he'd keep going, felt it in his bones. He'd come for every single one of them.

Matt made the first move, collected their weapons and led them from the room. Alejandro followed, paused in the doorway a moment before continuing. He didn't look back.

\--------------------

The anniversary of their deaths arrived without permission, woke him well before the sun, the fading wisps of their laughter evaporating with the dream. It was almost cruel that it hadn't been a nightmare that roused him from sleep, his mind full of their smiles and sweetness on a day that should have been agony from the start. 

Climbing from the bed he made his way over to the closet, kneeling down as he opened the door. The satchel was tucked at the back, and his fingers hovered in the air over it for a moment before he retrieved it. He hadn't brought much of them with him when he left Chihuahua, but he couldn't walk away with nothing. 

He pulled out Cerdita, ran his fingers over the plush little fox face, held it to his chest. Carina. His sweet baby girl, his sunshine, his  _ Reinita _ . Her determination and her compassion his greatest teachers, all frozen in his memories now, in his heart. He'd hold her there forever, the best of him, a reminder of how sweet life could be. A reminder that he was capable of good, a beacon to help him find his way back to himself. 

The journal, her wedding band tied to it's strap, full of stories and poetry, joy and frustration and hope. Her daydreams. Messages of love for her foolish husband and their treasured daughter. He brought it to his face and inhaled deeply, the dark leather still holding a trace of her warm perfume. His precious Sofia. His strength, compass, muse. The center of his world for so long, her and the perfect baby they created together. His beautiful family.

He clutched their things tightly as he made his way from the bedroom, slipping out to the balcony to settle into a lounge chair. The sky was beginning to shift towards the inky bluegrey of pre-dawn, and he felt like he was floating, suspended in between worlds, reality not quite touching him. 

Waves crashed onto the beach below, the air misting with salt, and he could feel their ghosts with him. Holding him. He slipped a pen from the binding of her journal and turned to a new page.

_ I still feel your arms around me in the night. Your kisses on my mouth, my throat, my chest. Your hands in my hair, gripping and soothing. I still hear your laughter. Your teasing. Your advice. I still see you sleeping in our bed. Walking towards me across the college campus. Dancing in our kitchen with our daughter, the pair of you covered in pancake batter. You taught me to be courageous, to be honest with myself. Showed me how to find love and bask in it's light. If we had one more day together, my darling, I'd spend it exactly the same way we spent every other, because every single moment with you was better than anything I could dream up.  _

_ I hope you are resting somewhere glorious now, you and our baby girl. The most perfect gift you ever could have given me, created from our love, grown from your strength. I hope you are having adventures. I hope you are surfing, and she is building wild sandcastles. Take her to see the snow for me too, won't you? Like we promised. Let her ride a polar bear, if anyone could it would be her. Make sure she knows how much Daddy loves her, how proud she made me every single day. Don't let her watch what I have to do next, I don't want her to see.  _

_ I know you see my heart, my reasons, my pain and guilt. My love. I know you forgive me, and I know you see that I may never forgive myself. I hope when the time comes I get to be with you both again, and that we can have a little of the life we planned. I hope the intervening years are beautiful for you, without the drag of time. I am so sorry that we aren't together, living all of them like we dreamed. Whatever comes now, my heart will hold you both always. xx _

He tucked the pen back, closed the journal and rested it on his lap, fingers brushing her wedding ring. The sun had crept into the sky while he'd been lost in his thoughts, his prayer to her, and the bay glittered like jewels in the soft morning light.

The door slid open behind him, Matt's steady footfalls approaching over the balcony. Alejandro glanced up as he held out a mug of coffee, a hint of an affectionate smile on his face. Beautiful and kind, the first real friend he'd had in longer than he cared to admit. Sofia had been right about so many things. He had no idea how he would have survived this without Matt supporting him, tucking him inside his own armor and protecting him. He probably wouldn't have. He took a deep sip from the mug. 

‘Thank you.’

Matt didn't respond, just pulled up another chair and settled in next to him, propping his feet up on the railing.

‘For everything, Matt. You've kept me alive.’

Matt looked over at him, a whirlwind of emotions flickering over his face. He always let Alejandro see so much.

‘You kept yourself alive. That was all you. I've just been stumbling along here by your side, stubborn company.’

They watched each other, let tender things pass quietly between them. Matt reached over and squeezed his knee, his touch lingering for a moment before he settled back to stare out over the water. Alejandro kept gazing at the relaxed lines of Matt's body, stretched out and still sleepy around the edges. The hurricane quietened into gentleness while it was just the two of them. Matt had let Alejandro see him stripped bare, no hint of armor, and he felt it for the gift it was, held it close. This was how he was going to remember him. Complex. Warm, hilarious, loving. And by equal turns lethal, protective and powerful. 

Alejandro wondered how much what he had to do next, what he had to unleash, was going to change him. What kind of man would he be by the time life inevitably drew him back to Matt's side? Would Matt even recognize him? Would he even recognize himself? So many unknowns. 

‘Matt…’

He tilted his head in his direction, a crease in his brow at the tone, and Alejandro felt a pang of sadness knowing what he was about to do.

‘...I've decided I need to leave.’

Matt sat up a little, his expression shifting into something resigned. Perhaps he'd been expecting this.

‘I need to follow this where it takes me. Learn how to live with this other part of me. Understand it, so it can't control me. I think I need to do it on my own.’ 

Matt breathed out a long sigh, nodded, processing. Alejandro's heart ached at the loss he was inflicting on them both, necessary though it was. 

‘When?’

His voice was pained, and Alejandro's chest throbbed.

‘Soon. A few days, perhaps.’

The silence held long enough that he thought Matt may not say anything else. When he spoke it was so soft Alejandro barely caught it. 

‘Will you come back?’

_ Oh god.  _ He reached out to brush fingers over Matt's bare arm.  _ Look at me. _ He waited for Matt's eyes to meet his, expression shuttered, gaze full of demons. Alejandro never wanted to be the cause of that. He tangled their fingers together.

‘Yes. Matt,  _ yes.  _ It may take some time, but it won't be forever.’

Tension visibly bled out of Matt, his smile returning, if a little hesitantly. Ghosts retreating.

‘Well, make sure you send me postcards, yeah?’

Alejandro let himself smile at that, let Matt lighten them. 

‘Yeah, I can do that.’

Matt got up from his chair and leant into Alejandro's space, wrapping arms around his neck in a clumsy embrace, cheek resting against his hair. He huffed a quiet laugh, the sound a comfort, and  _ god  _ Alejandro was going to miss him. He grabbed Matt's arms and held him there, felt the moment a kiss was pressed to the crown of his head. Too soon Matt was untangling himself and snagging their mugs, muttering about more coffee as he headed for the kitchen. 

Alejandro let his eyes drift shut, hands resting on the journal and toy in his lap, the morning sun pleasant on his face. A sense of determination settled over him, his next steps unknown but on a path laid clear in front if him. A few more days to get organised, to lock down the things he wanted to treasure deep in his heart, and then it would be time to go hunting. Let his monster free.   
  


\--------------------

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\--------------------

\--------------------

\--------------------  
  


Matt kicked off his crocs by the front door hard enough to send them jumping across the landing. Another long day stuck in a room full of Suits, waiting for them all to stop blowing hot air up each other's asses. He was so fucking done with the bureaucracy, was desperate to get out into the field and just  _ do  _ something. Preferably in another fucking country. And now they were assigning him some new guy, early thirties,  _ Forsing, _  a kid with a raft of skills and apparently “a lot of potential”. Great. “Potential” was usually code for “arrogant and boring as fuck”. The last thing Matt wanted was to be stuck fucking Stateside training some newbie. 

He scrubbed his hands through his hair, shouldered the front door open and grabbed up the handful of mail that was poking out from under the doormat. All he wanted right now was a cold beer and the chance to head down for a surf before he lost the last of the daylight. 

He tossed the mail down on the kitchen bench and was reaching for the fridge before a flash of color between the envelopes caught his eye. It had been eight months since Alejandro's last postcard, and if Matt hadn't been keeping an eye out for signs of _El Medellin_ cropping up during intel chatter then he would have been losing his mind. It was an impressive reputation he'd made for himself, as fearsome a hitman as he’d been a prosecutor. When he'd first heard the nickname, seen the handiwork, he'd known who it was immediately. _‘No one survives El Medellin, he is a beast, a devil. Do not ask for mercy, he does not know the word.’_ And Matt had been eager for every whisper, every hint that Alejandro was still out there, raining down hell's justice. He fished the postcard out of the pile of mail, leant his hip against the bench. 

The image was breathtaking. A sunset over the ocean, crashing waves on a sandy beach, the whole scene drenched in gold and pink and violet. Otherworldly. He flipped it over expecting the usual blank card, nothing but a postmark hinting at Alejandro's true location. His breath caught at the sight of a solid block of text in Alejandro's flowing script, and he let the bench take a little more of his weight.

_ The sunsets have been reminding me of them, saturated colors painting the world like one of her fairytales. I feel them in the final breaths of the day, that moment when reality seems to pause, sparking the senses, making anything seem possible. The passing of each day feels like a prayer to them, takes me to my knees. The night rolls in then, plunging everything into shadows, and where once I felt the fear of uncertainty I now taste something like peace. The sky studded with stars, glinting like jewels, the darkness holding me, guiding me. The night reminds me of you. I feel the dawn approaching, another cycle beginning, and perhaps it is almost time to return. See you soon. xx _

He clutched it to his chest for a beat, then read it through twice more before he felt like he could breathe again. The half decade that separated them evaporated, the years falling away, and Matt felt the burning itch of impatience squirming under his skin. They were both different men now, too much life had passed for them not to be, but as he read Alejandro's words a fourth time he knew it didn't matter. He  _ saw  _ him. That glowing core of him, lit to burning bright and still very much alive. And he wanted to bask in it, regardless of the danger that might now keep it company. He read over the card, a fifth time, a sixth.  _ Come back to me now, Alejandro. Come home. _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Massive, ridiculously heartfelt shoutout to constantlyinflux, who has spent weeks being a sounding board for this story <3 <3 <3 You glow too. Told you I'd make sure we finished together babe ;)


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